


Day 16: Harvest Festival

by AQ110



Series: Klancetober [16]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood, Festivals, Fire, M/M, Spells & Enchantments, Witch Keith (Voltron), Witch Trials
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 23:31:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16397177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AQ110/pseuds/AQ110
Summary: Sometimes the things you do to drive others away, leads them to you.Part 16 of 31 for @ikimaru's (Instagram) Klancetober!Each part has a chance to have another chapter or a full fledged story afterwords, so please leave a comment if you want more and I will have regular updates once October ends!





	Day 16: Harvest Festival

**Day 16: Harvest Festival**

 

The year is 1693 in a small village in the woods of the Colonies. News spread like wildfire with updates from their mother country's witch trials. It all started in 1645, many were suspected of being witches and were being hunted all over England.

And now it seemed the Colonies had their own infestation.

There have been reports of numerous people studying witchcraft nearby, and their executions were being treated as public events. Part for entertainment, part to rid the world of evil. At least, that’s what Lance heard from his father.

Right now, his village was getting ready for the annual Harvest Festival. The weather was getting colder and to avoid wasted crops, whatever wasn’t being used as storage food for the winter was brought out for the town to feast. They also held a village wide dance when the moon came out and only the candles lit the streets. In the past few years they also made a statue of straw in hopes of ridding witches from their village. Its worked well enough so far.

In fact, the burning of that straw is what kicked the entire event off. And this year, it was Lance’s job to build the statue. There was no rules as to what he had to build. He simply could only use leftover straw and hay, no more.

It had taken the tan boy weeks, but eventually he had made a horse that was based after his own. The hint word is  _ based. _ Honestly the blue eyed boy wouldn’t be able to burn his horse, even if it was made of straw.

Now as night approached, decorations and food tables set up, Lance’s horse straw in town square, lanterns being lit, the moon made it’s way into the sky. Lance was handed a torch by his father, the rest of their large family sitting down at a table.

“You got this, son.” the larger man said, putting a large hand on the 17 year old shoulder. “You’ve done a marvelous job making it, this is the easiest part.”

The smaller nodded with a grin. He loved his dad, and the the older man never said an untrue word. It always reassured him to know he was telling the truth.

Making his way down the winding stone path, Lance held the torch with confidence. The rest of the town was gathered in a circle around the horse, leaving just enough room for the teen to walk through without issues.

“It is my honor to say-” Lance yelled into the night air, enjoying the excited gazes he got from the crowd. “Let the festival commence!”

The blue eyed teen threw the torch onto the hooves of the straw beast. Cheers filled the air as the fire consumed the week long project. But Lance wasn’t upset. He knew this was going to happen. In fact, he was happy that he didn’t mess it up.

The towns musicians began to play a beat, some people making their way to the food table, others to the cobblestone dance floor. But Lance went a different direction. The tanned boy went to his family stables where Blue, his horse, awaited for him. She was a beautiful white camarillo horse with a shiny coat and eyes bluer than they sky in the summer.

Now you see, his family had five horses in their stables. When someone in their family reached the age of 16 they got their own horse to travel on. There was his moms, Alina. His dads, Angus. His oldest sister Veronica’s, Fiona. And his second oldest sisters Tiana.

That’s why Lance knew something was off once he stepped through the door. Slowly, he began to make his way to the back of the stable, counting the horses as he went.

_ Angus...Tiana...Alina...Fiona...Blue...Unknown. _

_...Unknown?! _

There was an extra horse across from his own. One that Lance didn’t recognize from his village. It was a deep red with a black mane. The muscles were prominent and she seemed to scream power. But where on earth did she come from?

The teen held out a hand to touch her flank when a voice rang out from behind him, startling him into stillness. “Don’t touch her! Step back!”

With hands raised in surrender, the tanned teen slowly turned around to show he meant no harm. What his ocean eyes saw startled him more than the shouting had.

There stood a man with messy black hair and pale skin. He was wearing common clothes, much like Lance himself, but he also had on a deep crimson cloak.

His left hand was held out threateningly out in front of him while the right was holding his side. Thick blood oozed from between his pale fingers. Looking closer, there seemed to be various gashes on his ankles and wrists. A small dribble of blood was exposed, leaking steadily out of the side of his pink lips.

The blue eyed boy took a step closer. “I-I wasn’t going to harm her. I just wanted to know where she came from.” Lance defended.

The boy tensed more the closer he got. Dark purple pools paranoidly watching his every movement. “I will leave soon. But don’t hurt her.  _ Please.” _

Lance barely heard the desperate whisper fall from the shorter's lips, but he did. “It’s okay. I won’t touch her. But what about you?”

He took a few more steps forward and the other boys back hit the front of Blue’s stall. The hand he had raised began to glow a purple color, lighting up the space ever so gently. If he wasn’t staring at his hand, he might have missed it.

Crimson nails lifted up into the air as a chant the teen wasn’t able to understand filled the room. This...this was magic. The boy in front of him was using  _ magic. _ But that could only mean…

This boy, this stranger in his family stable, was a witch.

A flash of purple filled the area, but it barely lasted a second. When things went back to its normal color and the horses calmed, the boy lowered his hand and fell backwards onto the hay, passed out cold.

The taller realized he wasn’t injured. In fact, nothing seemed out of place at all. It could of been for show, but the look in the shorter's eyes held a purpose beneath them. But then the question is, what  _ did  _ he do then?

When he turned back to the sorcerers horse, Lance realized he couldn’t go into the stall where she rested. It was as if some sort of  _ barrier  _ prevented him from reaching into the stall, much less opening it.

_ That idiot use his magic to protect his horse, even if he knew showing his magic would be dangerous. _ Lance thought as he approached the knocked out boy.

 

Maybe, just maybe, not all witches were bad?


End file.
